Dominion of Saffar: Yamato No Orochi
by King Kiryu
Summary: A child born into a peaceful cosmos will be turned into one of the fiercest villains to reign of over the cosmos. His tyranny will bring realization of his horrors, and light will be borne in him out of his sins. This is his legend.
1. Orochi: Prologue

Prologue

White flashes of light arc across the dark blue of the night, the winds howling with a certain impending fury. The light reflects upon a mass, within the blue clouds, sharp crystalline spires and carefully crafted towers spanning the surface of the mass. Deep within, a secondary light flashes across the sky, peering through the windows and the corridors, the interiors seemingly sculpted into a beauty only worth the experience and power of a thousand men. Small blue crystals hang upon the walls as lanterns, giving light to the otherwise dark hallways. Past the spiraling and expansive network of the corridors and rooms, lay the main atrium of what was Stella Castle. All the souls within remain dormant, in peace, except that of two, two hearts within the throne room. The colors, stained crystal windows, appeared to be sucked of all their color in the darkness, two thrones sculpted from obsidian and the finest upholsteries lay at the far side of the throne room. The first soul, lay curled atop a throne. A serpent, one of a blue coloration, that of a shimmering turquoise within his polished scales, an extensive mane of purple hair flowing along his body, following the gentle air currents within the extensive throne room.

His eyes remain half open, a purple glow emitting from behind his serpentine pupils, his head lying upon his body, looking ahead with an expression of anticipation worn upon his face. Another serpent accompanied the first, a female. Her scales gave the impression of being made from pure gold bullion, her yellow sheen enveloping her body, with combed, blond hair matting her body. Her name, inscribed upon a necklace, read "Sellafield". Sellafield, in the most underestimated terms, was different. She was a creature of beauty, despite her malformation, in which three heads and neck rest upon her shoulders, each independent of each other. Between the two lovers, lay a large, spotted egg. The egg carried a strange shape, being malformed, and abnormally big for their species. A lone, black crack grew from the top of the egg, as if a stream trickling down a mountain during the first warmth of spring. The blue serpent opened his mouth to speak, hesitating for a moment. "Sella. It's happening…" Pratax said.

Sellafield's heads rose one by one, all six ruby red eyes opening, their attention turning to the egg.

"I'm scared… It's size concerns me. Have the elders responded on why it could be so big?"

"No, I'm afraid, but do not let your fear cloud yourself. This is the most exciting moment we will have together as a couple. Hold me, and let us watch."

Pratax responded. The egg lay on the crystal floor, teetering from one side to another, as if an arm of a grandfather clock. It emitted a quiet crinkling, the shell of the egg growing more and more cracks, peeling off and releasing a small spurt of embryonic fluid. A small appendage with a ball at the tip pierces through the vanilla tinted shell. One small, head appears through the gaps and cracks of the collapsing eggshell, a quiet gasp being released by Sellafield. To their astonishment, a secondary head pierces through. Then a third. Then a fourth. More and more serpentine heads, until a remarkable eighth head was exposed past the egg shell. "Impossible… Eight hatchlings in one egg? That's incredible!" Pratax muttered, lifting his head to get a better view.

Sellafield slithered forwards, with her nose nudging the rest of the eggshell off of the squirming hatchling. Pratax inhaled deeply upon seeing the full result, speaking in a haunted, disappointed voice.

"Oh dear, Sella, I…"

Sellafield turned her three heads back to the eggs, and released a shrill gasp. Their hatchling, their child, was not eight different, but one. Each head and neck conjoined onto the body of a western dragon, a thick and defined chest and back, with proportionally accurate legs and arms. It's belly was slightly enlarged, a thick tail attached to it's lower body. Sellafield released a quiet cry, Pratax closing his eyes and coiling himself tighter.

"...An embryonic anomaly. I've never seen this, let alone ever heard of something of this scale. It's harrowing."

Pratax whispered to her in a gentle way, in an attempt not to disturb her within her moment of panic. The golden dragon pressed her heads into the body of Pratax, hiding her eyes from the sight of their deformed offspring. In a weak voice, she spoke.

"It'll die. It won't live past the first, or second week. It's hideous."

The small hatchling writhed upon the floor, his eyes still closed, and his body still enveloped in embryonic fluid. The storm outside the castle worsened, rain battering against the windows of the palace, a stark reminder that a new age had been borne of a new child. Yamato No Orochi was born unto the universe in despair.


	2. Orochi: Chapter 1

Orochi: Chapter 1

Several Jovian days had passed on Stella City since the birth of the mutant child, the embryonic anomaly, the miscarriage. Those were most of the rumors spreading among the dragons living within the commonwealth of blue crystal. While the ruling monarchs were comforted by most of the general populous, the nobility shunned the both of them, as they had failed to produce an heir after several attempts in the past. Alone once again, Pratax and Sellafield found themselves gazing upon their deformed child. He breathed softly, but did not move, in a perfect peace, almost. "The elder, he only said a week?"

Sellafield spoke out, breaking the silence between the two.

"The council will only wait a week. We'll be labeled as failures if we wait a minute longer than that. Please have no concern… See? He is not suffering. Our efforts are not in vain."

Sellafield leaned her lengthy body along the cold crystal wall of their chambers, rubbing her eyes. "This can't be happening… This can't. We've worked too hard, only to be cursed by the universe. I can't stand to watch this innocent soul borne of my flesh die before me."

The blue serpent slithered over to her, curling around her and holding his arms around her.

"We cannot escape destiny, I'm afraid… He's just not destined to succeed. You and I are but left to one only option, to keep trying. It does not rain all the time, if you must know."

He smiled in assurance, Sellafield looking into his eyes, frowning in discontent as a subconscious thought entered her mind, She understood that her husband spoke of the truth. Their child was not fit to live, and there was no way to intervene to cease the accursed process. Yamato No Orochi, as the mutant child had been named, writhed slowly in brief bursts, one of it's heads quietly squealing for attention. Sellafield reached into Yamato's small enclosure, however, Pratax hastily reached out and grabbed her arm.

"You might hurt it. It may have scales, but it has very few at that. With flesh that young, you might injure it."

Sellafield's eyebrow furrowed, becoming disgruntled with his actions and words.

"It's going to die anyways, I'm going to give it the only maternal comfort it'll have during it's short life. I don't care what the council says, I'm going to love it. If you shant touch it, I shall."

Pratax held his head low, and sighed deeply, a look of contempt on his face.

"Sella, I understand your intentions, but I just don't see the use in extending your grief even further. Upon the faithful day, you'll be left in shambles-"

"I AM in shambles! I bore this child to have a piece of my own flesh, that I may adore and nurture to greatness. The fault does not lay upon my shoulders that the satires mark you as impotent!"

The turquoise serpent growled from deep within his chest, raising his head to look her in the eyes. Indeed it was true, and it showed, that he had a deep frustration and concern for his outward image from other fellow monarchs and councilmen. Along the crystal corridors, he had previously overheard immature whispers about him and Sellafield, seen passages within scrolls detailing his failures, and as a general fool.

"They don't get in the way of our relationship, I promise you, don't get angry at me. I'm as frustrated and depressed as you are upon the matters. Do you assume that I enjoy watching my firstborn son wriggling on a bed, his bear flesh exposed with the patches of nonexistent scales? Do you assume that I lavish upon holding him, to which he will not respond, each of his heads limp like a dead worm? Is it so?"

"No, but I expect you to show affection to my children, dead or alive, do you understand?"

He rolled his eyes, wanting to end the conversation and go elsewhere.

"Yes, I do, dear."

Sellafield pulled her wrist out of his grasp, leaning over into her son's enclosure, slowly caressing him with a maternal love. Patax meanwhile turned his head, looking out of the window, at the blue swirling clouds of the Jovian planet, long threadlike whisps of white entangling the clouds. Pratax slithers out of their quarters, into the long halls, passing by other dragons of similar size and stature, each displaying a unique assortment of colors. He enters a study room, the desk composed of a flat chunk of engraved obsidian, the chair leaned back, made of a slanted piece of quartz. Pratax slumped into the chair, a certain burning feeling simmering within his heart, a sort of passion almost. A passion for his hate of embarrassment, and within his mind, the runt that they had produced had made it all the worse. It had all become apparent, if his problems would simply disappear, the embarrassment would no longer be as severe. His eyebrows furrowed. That was the answer, to make it disappear. The mutant child had a week to live, his death was increasingly imminent. He sat back, and began to plot to himself, folding his paws together, tapping his claws upon the cold, barren minerals.

That night, Sellafield slept with a certain peace, despite the circumstances plaguing her mind during her waking hours. The corridors of the palace had been dimly lit, and outside was enveloped in a pitch black, a while moon peering through the dark blue clouds, guarding the planet. The moon's protection would not serve enough for that of the mutant child. The child, alone in his enclosure, lay limp, quiet. Pratax quietly entered the room, hovering through the doorway, looming over the mutant child's resting place. His paws slowly reached inside, scooping up Yamato and placing him in one are. He seemed not to move, or make any sounds. The blue serpent hovered out of the room quietly, navigating the dim halls of the castle, approaching a large chamber. Within the chamber, there had been a black, sculpted arch of mineral, within the arch, being a red and purple swirling circle of a mysterious, universal energy. Pratax glanced down at the mutant child one last time, slowly levitating onwards, passing through the source of energy. He appeared with his son, upon a cold, barren land. The ground was grey, patches of black present where the ground had seemingly been scorched. Large caverns, mountains, and rocky cliffs composed the hostile landscape. Pratax leaned over, placing Orochi under a large rock, under some shade. He scoffed, folding his arms and taking one last look upon his child, and levitated away from sight. His mind was at rest, finally, for the doom is the child was bound to happen within any circumstance. So he thought.


	3. Orochi: Chapter 2

Orochi: Chapter 2

It was at once, a stem of peace for the forsaken couple, in which the presence of the mutant child, had been no more. The two dragon monarchs proceeded with their bidding, conceiving three of the most viable and healthy children possible. The burden of their judgement from the public no longer hung upon their shoulder, for their failed child no longer served as a mark on their existence, the poor creature finally gone. However, in the time passed in conceiving these three children by the Monarchs, it can be assured that he was not dead, but however, scared, and very much alive upon the moon. The week that defined his lifespan had grown to months, to years, 9 in specific. Orochi was still, and very much infantile and young. His body was sufficiently healed of its dermal deformities, bearing a vibrant red hue among his young scales. Despite all, he remained accursed with the array of heads and necks, but functioned and survived nonetheless. The poor, chubby dragon infant wandered in isolation upon the frigid moon, his sustenance the snow and frozen vegetation.

The isolation fought his mind, growing his mental state into a manner quite often described as feral. His young mind had not begun to develop, ensnaring him in a cycle of eating, sleeping, and mindless wandering, his existence void of guidance. This would begin to mark the list of grievances that shall define his adolescence. That was, until, in his mindless, hopeless wandering, he encountered a cave, one like all others. Dark, surrounded by ice, nothing of significance to his young, undefined and undeveloped mind. Orochi pressed onwards, avoiding the looming clouds from an oncoming ice storm, taking shelter within the dark cave. To the astonishment of his feral, unsocial mind, there were signs of activity within. Cluttered commodities made of crystal, scratches on the wall, makeshift furniture, even a large fire pit, the cinders of a blue fire rising and hovering in the air within the low gravity. The mutant child, filled with curiosity, ran towards the warmth of the blaze, taking cover by the fire, propping himself and his eight infantile heads upon the bases of the poorly made furniture. A noise, that of a voice, startled the mutant child, looking around. A large set of green claws landed beside him, the head of a green dragon peering over. Appearing to be a male, the stranger of a dragon dwarfed the infant dragon. He was stocky in build, with a very short, blunt muzzle shape, thick, staggered horns rising upwards from the back and sides of his head.

Orochi squealed softly, releasing air through the necks of all of his heads, each one moving in a different position to get a view of the Goliath that stood above him.

"Oh man… What's this? How did you get in here little guy? I thought there wasn't any life here…"

Orochi's eyes widened to the sound of his voice, the different fluctuations in his voice, the sweet sound of something organic, a contrast against the silence and sound of the hostile nature that his mind had always processed.

"What kind of thing made you? You're not natural… Dear me, you're a dragon, a baby one at that, abandoned here at my feet? It's a celestial wish that you haven't perished out there."

The stranger spoke, reaching down with his large hands, scooping up the mutant child into his grasp, holding him up to the stranger's eye.

"Eight heads, oh. This, is something really funky."

Orochi writhed in his grasp, his heads wandering and gazing upon the stranger and the surroundings of the small home, a sparkle catching his eye. Upon a basket, lay another infant in a deep slumber. The dragon exhibited a non-serpentine body, seemingly normal. However, what caught Orochi's eye was not only that of the infant's presence, but that of his coloration. The small dragon in the basket was a very flat, completely monotonous black across all of his body, with small white sparkles adorning his body, that had an affinity to glow in or out of the light.

The stranger admired the small mutant child, in his uniqueness and oddity, and set him upon his chest, using the palm of his hand to warm Orochi. The mutant child's encounter with life, that of his own child, remained as the first major progression. The stranger, whose name he dared not to reveal to either infant, was that of a rejected commoner. He was a normal dragon, like countless others, wanted for adultery by those who were commandeered by the law of the nearby established court, run by the same nobility that had thrown Orochi into the path of death. The product of his adultery lay in the basket, whose name would come to be Mayall, named after the stranger's home system that he had fled from. Under the stranger's care, Orochi will be shown the first care and appreciation that will remain devoid for the rest of his life. The two children will grow and prosper together on the desolate moon, growing together as brothers, siblings out of care and situation, but not of blood. In this, the two upon their oncoming lives, shall develop a bond, stronger than blood, for each other. They would become the rising stars in the fall of the star systems, the inseparable duo.


	4. Orochi: Chapter 3

Chapter 3

In the first blossoming jovian years of the two young "brothers", a true bond had been created between their youthful minds, as well as their new companion and guardian, Oradom, as he called himself in familiar company. No longer had they been stranded on the moon, instead landing on Petrana, the auxiliary world of the Caroso House nobility and clan. Given the optimal atmosphere and life all across the land, prosperity naturally followed, with Oradom's adopted family basking in this new world outside of Saffarian mercy. The family had come to live in a large hut built from compacted sediments and bricks, slightly overgrown by wild green vines sprouting red flowers in the grace of a new season. The goliath sat preparing a large bunch of leafs compacted and torn in a small bowl, adding some spices and ingredients for his and the children's breakfast. A few meters shy of the dragon, was a small carved nest bought from some neighbors, in which Yamato remained fast asleep. He had grown a slight amount, his skin now sporting a full, healthy set of scales, being a very vibrant red, and smooth. Small bumps had appeared short of the back of his head, several in the shape of a circle, hints of developing horns and features.

Orochi's counterpart, Mayall, was wide awake, the small specks of white on his jet black scales seeming to always shimmer. The dark hatchling pawed at the array of heads belonging to Yamato, trying to awake him, only to be met with a high pitched groan. Yamato's noise captured the attention of Oradom, turning his head to observe Mayall pestering Yamato in his sleep. In turn, he approached the small nest, picking up Mayall and putting him down on the ground. "Not yet, it's not even midday, you know." Mayall fidgeted in his grasp, landing on all fours and looking up to Oradom, giving a small nod. "Ya pa... " Oradom reached over into the bowl, taking out a small bunch of crunched leaf paste and herbs between two scratched claws, extending his arm to Mayall, holding out the morning meal. The jet black dragon squealed and sprung up, snatching the paste from Oradom's fingers, eliciting a short laugh from him.

"Here, eat up, you and your brother need to go deliver some coins to the collector in the temple." Mayall looked up at him with innocent eyes. "Okay… But he's asleep!"

"No matter, I'll take care of that right now."

Oradom stepped over Mayall, as he sat down to eat his meal. He reached into the bowl, getting a slightly larger scoop of paste, approaching the nest and standing over Yamato. He lowered his fingers to Yamato's sprawled out heads, softly bumping the paste against all eight noses of his. Nearly right away, one by one, each of Yamato's 16 eyes opened to embrace the sight of his companion. He released another quiet groan, sticking out his limbs and tails to stretch, his heads and necks curling back as well.

"Good morning."

"Mmph–Food…"

Orochi craned out his heads, one at a time nipping from the green paste while others groomed his new layer of scales. Oradom turned his back to the younglings, stretching out his bat-like wings and reaching into a small hole in the ground near one of the windows, a neat beam of natural light shining onto the home. Within, were several pieces of parchment that were written on, that were arranged haphazardly. He further disturbed the order of papers, lifting them them from the hole, and taking one from the pile, scanning over it.

"Boys, we're going to go out today. Papa has to give something to the fortress."

Immediately, their eyes lit up and looked up to their "father", in fascination. They had been let out to play before in the past, but nowhere beyond the limits of their home. The two looked to each other in realization of what this meant, despite not knowing what a fortress was. Mayall squealed and trotted up to Oradom's leg, while Orochi just stood still and looked to the two, still groggy and lethargic.

"Come along now, little guy. We've got a long way to go, if we don't leave, we'll never make it!"

Orochi walked up to Oradom's side. He looked down onto Orochi, a slight guilt welling up in his gut. He just found Orochi long ago on the mood, and had no name for him. Even if Orochi did have a name, Oradom would never know. He propped open a large wooden hatch in the side of their hut, their main entrance and exit. The trio slid out into the fertile nature, their hut surrounded by winding hills and plains of tall grass, other huts dotting the area. The sky was a deep blue, with cirrus clouds smeared as far as the eye could see either way. Orochi looked up to the sky, in fascination with the clouds and their texture. To him, they looked appetizing, like a sweet he came across a few years ago. His daydreaming was suddenly cut short as he was yanked up by his tail, releasing a high pitched grunt. Oradom hoisted him onto his shoulder, and Mayall to the other, their adventure beginning while they traveled along a dirt road in relative silence. Several minutes later, the silence was broken by Mayall whining. "Are we there?" Oradom quickly rolled his eyes, realizing that he was about to experience a cliche that was the reality of experiencing childhood.

"No, we're not there yet. We'll be there in the afternoon."

Orochi felt the urge to want to talk, but stumbled on his words once he did.

"Can I… You… Wanna play!"

"No, we've got to keep moving… If you want to play, get onto my back. Don't fall off."

Orochi sprung into action, hopping across Oradom's shoulder and gripping onto his brother, pulling him down onto his back. Mayall squealed, and they both pushed at each other and gripped each other, pulling, rolling, and wrestling upon his back.

Several hours passed, with the two small younglings napping after their tussel, both exhausted. Oradom himself fatigued as well, his hands and feet sore from the long walk. He looked up from the beaten path, and beyond the outskirts of the plains stood the fortress. Rather, it was a traditional garrison left behind by the Carosos, that was now surrounded with plentiful housing and markets. The fortress itself looked of grandeur that was left to spoil, it's high towers and walls engraved with plentiful art that was stained by rains of history. All the reds were faded completely along the edges and roofs, the yellows of gold ornaments were turned a vile burgundy. Oradom pressed on, approaching the outskirts of fortress, a tall wall with iron gates blocking Oradom the way in. He looked around his surroundings, seeing the usual guards that had been there countless times before were missing, even shocked to see a spear laying on the ground. Oradom glaced to both sides, seeing that nothing else was unusual, reaching forwards and parting the iron gate himself, slipping through.

Oradom set his feet onto an alternating brick path, with some vines growing over it. He felt a sensation on the back of his neck, but ignored it as he picked up the pace of his walking, finally entering the first of many plazas of the town around the fortress. Between large stone and cinder block buildings, decorated with tapestries and ribbons, hung a small sign that stated: "THE HADRION FORTRESS." Oradom stopped to admire the civilization he had only seen a few times in the recent years, each time witnessing such development feeling like the first. A shove brought him back to reality, as a large, bulky blue dragon passed by him. From one moment to the next, dragons of varied size and colors filled the streets, talking, bartering, and traveling between the packed streets. He gathered himself and joined the natural flow of dragons, being watchful of the variety of his kind as he strolled deeper between the buildings towards the fortress. The commotion brought Orochi out of his slumber, slowly peeling open his eyes to see the crowd around him. He lifted his many heads in curiosity, each head looking a different way. One head caught the gaze of several dragons passing by watching him, some with an expression of fascination and others with an expression of disgust, either emotion made no sense to him anywho. He yawned and crawled up further on Oradom's shoulder, looking ahead to see the fortress itself, a monolith with walls and miniscule windows. It's intended intimidation didn't phase Orochi, instead squealing in enjoyment and pleasure of such an amazing structure, only hearing of such castles from Oradom's story. Oradom raised his eyebrows upon hearing the squeal, reaching onto his shoulder and plucking Orochi off it it, placing him close to his chest and hiding him the closer he got to the entrance of the fortress. He left the crowd, and entered the shadow of the fortress, crossing a bridge over a valley and approaching the main entrance.

Oradom was quickly stopped by two tall, thin dragons, wearing dark blue chest plates and wieling spears similar to the ones he saw at the front gates.

"Hault! What's a small brute like you doing 'oer here?"

"I've got a scroll for the viceroy. I'm here to see him."

"You 'n those tiny kids?"

"I'm shan't risk them in the outskirts. Do tell, am I entering or not?"

"You got quite the tongue on ya. Get in there."

One of the two guards unlocked the tall doors, pulling one open for Oradom. He stepped forwards, but just as one claw was in the door, the second guard called to him. "No animals in the fortress!" He knew immediately what the guard was referring to, and motioned an insult with his hand to the guard, forcing a laugh out of the guard. He ventured into the main hall of the fortress, having a very tall vaulted ceiling with murals of dragons fighting and studying. Lighting was very poor, with only some torches providing the bare minimum to be considered ambient lighting. Yamato struggled and grunted to poke his heads out, but was met with a tighter press against the chest of his adoptive father, whining quietly. Oradom reached out his claws to the right side of the wall, running it down and feeling how many doors he passed, each varied in size for segregated standard, aether gifted, and celestial dragons. Thirteen celestial doors past, and Oradom stopped, gazing up the tall doors, feeling miniscule. He balled his hand into a fist and knocked hard on the tall door, each knock echoing through the dead silence of the fortress. A tedious minute passed and a mechanism jingled within the door, the door slowly opening. A grey colored dragon head slithered from the crack of the door, gazing down at Oradom and his children. His face was aged and worn, with some cracked scales, his head the size of Oradom's chest. His horns were curved from the back of his head forwards, like that of a ram, along with some thick discolored scales for eyebrows. He was the first celestial Oradom saw in days.

"Viceroy Iserine, you look dreadful." Oradom smiled up at him.

"I could say your appearance looks equally has hideous. Come in."

Oradom slid into the room, entering an ornate office room, awfully bright compared to the rest of the castle, blue glowing crystals all over the office. Upon full view of the Viceroy, he appeared to be very muscular as most of Carosoan descent, given their phenotype. At the end of his tail was a small curved blade, attached with some chains.

"Where did you get all these glowing gems?"

"Saffar. Where else? They have some absolutely gorgeous ornaments. Expensive too. How is your protective stay?"

"Quiet. I don't know how there is so much of your type, yet nobody spots me out."

"Every dragon here is in refuge from some place or hole in the stars. You were persecuted for having an affair with the Grand Stewart, while we let in some being persecuted for conspiring against the power hungry cogs of the machine. Nobody will dare call upon another, because they will end up exposing everyone."

"But you are a Caroso. How don't they get to us through you?"

"This is my territory I earned on my accord. To touch me would be to violate the countless treaties and hollow agreements they make."

"You are a wonder, Iserine." Oradom picked up a glowing crystal with the same hand he held the paper in, slowly pulling Orochi away from his chest to see the glamorous crystal. Orochi cooed in pleasure, while Mayall was still fast asleep and clinging to his father.

"Flattering. I see you brought your child… What is that in your hand?"

"...My child. I don't know how he survived, or how he lives or functions… Just look at him, Iserine. I found him on the moon I was hiding on. But he is my child too."

"I know Mayall was born of mixed blood, but is a pure celestial… Do you know what he is?"

"No. He looks like a dragon, but maybe he's something completely different."

"Back to the paper. What is it?"

"I need you to look over it. It's just my dues and also a declaration of this little one." Oradom rubs the palm of his hands over Orochi's heads, his neck hunching and closing his eyes.

"What do you propose his name will be?"

The guilt quickly resurged into Oradom's gut, and he quickly blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. "Geran. I'll call him Geran."

"Odd." Iserine held out his hand, the paper sliding out from Oradom's hands and floating into Iserine's palm, lifting it to his eyes and squinting to read it.

"Viceroy, I never got the chance to thank you for saving me from the Carosos. I owe my life and the life of my son to you."

A long silence ensued before Iserine reached down to his desk, picking up a shard of graphite and scribbling on the paper. "You had the money, I had the resources. It's just business, don't you know?"

"It's my life we're talking about here."

"I'm well aware," Iserine grumbled. He set the paper on his desk. "Have the guards continued to harass you?"

Oradom perked up. "No… In fact, when I came here, they weren't even there, I just found one of their spears. Not a sign of them."

Iserine slowly sat back into a large carved rock, used as a armchair, sinking into it and slouching. "They're slacking again. But you said you did not see them at all?"

"No Sir."

"Odd. Everything's been unusual lately. Dragons disappearing and such, it disturbs me. Ever since that elder went nuts."

Oradon sat down on the floor before Iserine, setting down Orochi and Mayall, who was coming back to. Orochi wandered along the floor, naturally drawn to a small glowing crystal, putting his small hands over it, feeling it's warmth.

"The aether one?"

"Yes, that one. It's a shame, he was one of us. After they put him in a precautionary detainment, he laid siege to the homeworld. A good amount of celestials and lessers perished, before the other elders got there. A servant of mine on world told me it only took a few minutes from when it started to when it ended."

"Mind if I ask how big was the army that attacked?"

"Army? Did I mention an army?"

"No," Oradom muttered before he was bluntly cut off. "It's a former elder we're talking about. It was him and him alone."

"I hope they got him.

"I hope so too… I hope so too." Iserine lowered his head and closed his eyes for a moment, opening them again to look at Mayall, bothered by the presence of Orochi. "He'll grow into just a strong dragon as any Caroso in the stars. You have a blessing, to raise a celestial. I hope you're prepared for when he surpasses your size in his late adolescence. In the meantime, get out of this dark, god-forsaken castle. Continue teaching little Mayall how to talk and write, I look forward to talking with him." Iserine gave Oradom a genuine smile. He know Iserine usually never smiled, but it seemed to him that he was assured that out of all the enemies he could of made, he had one genuine friend in a high place. Oradom gave a brief nod, pursing his lips together and whistling to call Orochi over to his side, Orochi quickly waddling to him. He picked up his two children, setting them upon his shoulder, and making circles with his thumb and index fingers, putting them together to make the sign of the Ouroboros. Iserine did the same to Oradom and he quickly turned around and left the room, making his way through the halls to leave the dark halls of greed, with his two younglings holding on.


	5. Orochi: Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Following the visit to the fortress, Oradom spent a few months participating in his usual hut in the outskirts of the fortress, pondering the news Iserine gave him. He was in the nearby fields, plucking edible herbs, wandering through the tall grass. What would drive an elder, among the most respected and wise celestials in the cosmos turn on the flip of a coin? This ate at the back of his mind, especially since he heard rumors of his great discoveries. Great in name, since Oradom couldn't bring himself to remember a single example. He shrugged it off, and receded back to his simple and peaceful life, plucking one small plant out of the ground after another.

A short distance away, Orochi and Mayall were walking side by side along a small spring of crystal clear, small crimson and deep blue fish swimming along the current of the water. Mayall stride was beginning to develop, each step smooth and elegant, meanwhile Orochi waddled, trying to copy his brother. The way Mayall walked on all fours, particularly his hands, hurt Orochi's wrists, leaving him to walk on his fists. Orochi's heads gazed around, each looking forwards. Mayall noted the way he moved, looking over to Orochi and lifting a hand, nudging him softly against his shoulder.

"Why don't you ever walk right?"

"Mmmh. It hurts. Papa doesn't say anything."

"That's not how the big dragons walk. They walk like me."

"It doesn't matter… I'm not a big dragon… I don't know if I am a dragon."

"Yeah you are! You got big shoulders, scales, horns, snouts, wings… Well, no wings. I guess you're not a dragon."

"So? Papa says it's just okay to be the way I am. Do you think so too?"

"Yuperoo, I think so. You're my brother."

"I want to be like the dragons in the big castle, I want to eat and live like them. It has to be cool."

Mayall scoffed. "Better start walking like one." Orochi whined, opening his hands and walking on them, feeling the strain in his wrists. The two stopped by a small lake that was formed by the spring, Orochi leaning over the water and looking at himself. He saw the wavy image of all eight of his heads looking back at him. He dove his heads into the water to try to get a closer look, only for the image to disappear. However, a few crimson fish passed by and instinct went to work, as he naturally darted his necks forwards and catching two within his teeth, the others quickly swimming away. He pulled his heads out of the water and gobbled the fish down, shaking the water out of his scales afterwards.

"Why are you so good at fishing?"

"I dunno. I just do it. Why don't you?"

"I will! I'll show you how it's done." Mayall positioned himself at the edge of the shore, eyeing another crimson fish, lowering himself into a pouncing stance. He took a deep breath, and made a high pitched roar, springing forwards into the spring, missing and scaring away all the fish. He sunk down with the current starting to take him away. He tried to jump to the surface, but kept sinking with a heavy strain developing on his chest, getting quickly scared. He fanned out his wings and splashed them, trying to get up. Orochi noticed him struggling and followed the same pounce, going to retrieve his brother. He splashed in next to him, biting him with all either heads, and starting to sway his body from left to right, just as he saw the fish doing. The two of them started moving perpendicular to the current, the water getting more shallow as they reached the shore. Mayall's head poked out of the clear water, gasping and coughing, Orochi planting his claws into the dirt and sliding the both of them onto the shore.

"Mayall! Are you okay?"

Orochi was met with more and more coughing, followed by a quiet sob. Orochi hugged his brother and lifted him up onto his feet.

"What happened? Why didn't you try to be a fish?"

"I tried to hunt like I see papa does… I don't want to be a fish!"

"Just be careful, please, I love you too much for the water to take you."

Orochi let go of his brother, looking at him, the both of them soaking wet.

"...Do you promise you won't tell Papa about what happened?"

Orochi gazed back into Mayall's dark, deep eyes. "I promise."

Mayall reached out and grabbed Orochi's hand, yanking on it as he started to walk. Orochi stumbled forwards, getting back onto his fists and hopping along with him, going back to the hut, both dripping with spring water. Once upon the beaten path, they saw two dragons and a hooded figure, one they assumed was a monk of sorts, each one spread out by great distances. The largest out of the two was the hooded figure, a strange protrusion pushing the hood back a good amount. As they passed by the figure, they looked up to get a better look at him. The robe it donned was ornate and decorated, with a torn and burnt sash with golden dragons along it. Light shined partially onto a deep blue snout that had some scales protruding out of the tip of it's chin. Hidden by the shadows was a pair of deep amber eyes with reptilian pupils that glowed in the darkness of the hood. Just as the two younglings watched by, the eyes looked down to meet their gaze, the figure looking back ahead as they parted ways.

Orochi spotted a small bug, with six wings flying and buzzing around ahead, tugging on Mayall's hand and nudging his heads towards it, releasing his brother's hand, breaking into a run as he chased it back and forth along the trail, the bug eventually leading him to Oradom's hut before he lost sight of it. He panted, while Mayall trotted up to him and flapping his wings at the same time. The skies were starting to get dark as some grey clouds loitered overhead, and in close pursuit were some large storm clouds, colored bright white and puffy, arching high into the atmosphere. Orochi got hungry again as he walked into the hut through a small hole made for the both of them. Within, Oradom was eating some of the herbs he collected, setting aside some of them according to shape for sale later. Mayall hopped onto Oradom's lap and he stroked Mayall, looking down to Orochi who sat down next to his feet.

"Why are you both wet?

"We got some fish." Mayall interjected.

"How many did you get?"

"Only a little. Geran ate his."

Oradom smiled, continuing to look at Orochi. "Are you full?" He knew the answer.

Orochi shook his head. He reached over into a pile of sweet herbs, tying them into a tight bundle with some vine, holding it down to Orochi's head. Orochi sniffed it, albeit being tired of only eating shrubbery with his father. He tore off one piece at a time, munching on it boredly. Mayall broke the silence. "Papa, why are there monks here?"

"Monk's? There's no monks here."

"I saw one on the trail."

"Monks… Monks… What was he wearing?"

"I dunno, what monks wear." Mayall toiled with some nearby herbs. "A brown thing that covered him, he had some yellow dragons and some thing across his body."

Oradom rubbed the back of his neck. "Doesn't make sense. The monastery does not operate this far, I think." Mayall responded with a shrug, looking down to Orochi for an input, Orochi munching contently at the bundle as he was already halfway finished with it. A heavy woosh echoed through the hut as the rain started to fall, outside turning dark and the winds ventilating the hut with cool air. "Maybe I should tell Iserine. He knows what's happening here."

"I like Mr. Iserine," spoke Orochi. "He's really big, fancy, strong—"

"And corrupt. And old. And wrinkly. I paid him a lot of money for him to even look at me. I'm not saying I regret it, he's a pretty good person when you're not trying to get his attention with a bag of coins."

"How much money do you have Papa?"

"However much Iserine has in his office, in the vault, or on Caroso. Promise me you won't ever rely on money. Be a good dragon, help the others and live quietly. The castles and royals are all scum in some way or another."

Orochi looked down, sighing. "I promise."

"Good. You should grow up here, with no temptation."

"Pa, am I a dragon?"

"Of course you are. I'm sure of it! You're just different, and that's fine. Dragons appear in all shapes and sizes. Have you ever seen one with feathers?"

"No, I thought only birds have feathers."

"No, some do. Collusians have feathers sometimes."

Orochi gazed down in contemplation, not able to imagine a feathered dragon. Oradom looked outside to the weary sky and condition, furrowing his eyebrows while he took a deep breath through his nose. "I know you want to be like Iserine… But be like the elders. They'll never take you in because you're not a celestial, I think. But they're right and just… No land or greed. If good dragons ever exist, that's who they are."

"I'm a dragon, but not a celestial? What does that mean?"

"Before, there was just celestials and lessers. Celestials are like Iserine; Large, and capable of vast powers, fire, water, you name it. All the other ones were all lessers, not capable. But apparently as Iserine says, the one dragon who went crazy found the forces responsible for these powers that flows through the stars, the aether. Now, there are normal ones, lessers who can wield this power known as aether-gifted, and celestials who, if they try and study enough, can embrace that power."

Orochi looked down in disappointment, some guilt eating at his heart and gut. Not only did he realize he was odd, but he realized that the power he looked up to would never be his. The idea of being called a "lesser" injured him. He squeezed his eyes shut to prevent any show of tears in front of his father, lowering his heads down. Oradom stood up and held Mayall, stroking his head, whispering to Mayall so Orochi wouldn't hear. "Your mother was one of them, and I know your life will be great.


	6. Orochi: Chapter 5

Orochi: Chapter 5

The next morning, the two younglings wandered out on their own while their father went back to the fortress to spend the day with Iserine. The two was slowly walking down the open trail, the firm and smooth dirt giving Orochi's fists some ease walking on. Orochi was silent, waiting to see if Mayall would mention anything about their conversation yesterday. Orochi cleared his voice slightly. "Mayall?"

"Yes Geran?"

"I know I'm not one of them… But, if the elders papa was talking about are so powerful, why don't we try to find that monk we saw?"

"Yeah! Let's do it. He won't catch us anyways."

"I hope I'm not a normal… Could he show us the elders?"

"If he can't, he's not a monk."

"Awesome. Which way was he going?"

"I don't know." Mayall jumped up onto Orochi's back, standing on his rear legs and looking over the sea of grass, watching the winding curvature of the path, pointing further down the road that they were traveling. "That way! I remember how it curves." Orochi shook his shoulders and Mayall slid off of him, landing on all four paws. He led the way on their new adventure, trotting further on his feet and fists with Mayall catching up.

"Mayall, he wore a large, dark towel, right?"

"That's a robe dummy."

"Oh. He shouldn't be hard to miss. What if he isn't nearby? What if we missed him?"

"Then we're having fun for nothing!"

Orochi laughed loudly, nudging against Mayall and ensuing with their travel. For what felt like hours, the two walked down, only passing three lonely huts like that of theirs, growing bored and disinterested. The silence was broken by Orochi as he spotted a green wall ahead of him. A large forest with trees whos canopies were shaped like mushrooms, and their barks looking like thin toothpicks. "Forest!"

"Forest? I've never seen a forest in person ago… Is it a good idea?"

"Well, that's what papa told me in the stories about the star travelers."

"Yeah, I hope you're right."

Orochi jogged up to the edge of the forest, seeing that the trail continued inside, and between the shadows of the trees bled some colorful glints of light. He naturally wandered towards the array of lights, Mayall hunching up slightly in anxiousness.

"Geran?..."

"Yeah?"

"I don't like this. At all."

Orochi brought his heads together, consciously turning his heads and necks so they formed an ellipse above himself, keeping one head's field of vision accompanied by the next, slowing down each step and slowly scanning between the trees. The only movement was leaves gliding down slowly all around them, and the only thing they heard was the crunching of leaves under their feet. They came to the lights, an array of different crystals erected around a cave, with a fire fueled by twigs lighting the inside. Inside were some gold items and some made out of wood. Orochi went ahead slowly. Mayall felt a tingling sensation on the back of his neck and he stood up on his rear legs. To his side, the shadows slowly curved out of rhythm, and a dark figure appeared. Orochi spotted the movement right away and he quickly turned his body and all his heads to face the shadows in one quick movement, growing quiet. One dark blue foot stepped within a fragment of lit foliage, and the dark color of the robe emerged from the darkness. Mayall turned out and flinched, yelping and stepping back. The shadow advanced towards the two and into a beam of light. The robe and hood was fully in view, causing the two to fully relax and sigh. A deep, reverberating chuckle came from behind the robe. Two baggy sleeve raised from the shadow's side, putting it's dark blue hands with vanilla claws on the edges of the hood, pulling it back to reveal a draconic head. It's facial features were more jagged, a sign of a Caroso. His eyes were an amber color with thin slits for pupils, however all else was surrounded by a void of darkness, his skull casting its own shadow over his eyes. His snout was blunt, with the same scales they saw jutting out from under the snout. Something they hadn't seen before were his elegantly curved horns, three large horns that made a trident jutting out of his head. A smile filled his face, as well as vanilla colored teeth. He quietly spoke to the two startling children. "Calm, calm, no need to fret little ones, how do you fare?"

"Uhhh…" Orochi muttered.

"I saw you five marks away, you've ventured a very long way."

Mayall jumped in, stuttering. "W-We're looking for a-a monk!"

The figure was standing on his rear legs, putting his hands on his hips, laughing and tilting his head, taking a moment to think about his answer. "Well… Since you are little ones, I'd have to say that I am no monk." Mayall looked disappointed for a moment. "I'm an elder." The both of their eyes lit up, Mayall and Orochi perking up tall and looking at each other. "What would such a little creature like you two be looking for an elder like me?" The elder slowly walked over to a stump by the fire, parting his robe to the sides as he sits down. Orochi gulped and stepped forwards towards the elder. "Are you as powerful as they say you are? Why are you here?"

The elder put two fingers on his chin. "Well, it's not right to see us as powerful. Just gifted. I do come from the Monastery for Gifted Dragons after all. Now to your second question, I'm on a mission."

"A mission?"

"A mission is where us elders and students go and explore to help the dragons in a specific place. For me, it's this planet."

"Wow…" Mayall uttered.

"Come, come here, what kind of educated dragon would I be if I didn't spare my visitors my time?" The two hatchlings looked at each other again for confirmation, slowly walking up to the fire and sitting down. "That can't be the only thing you're here for." Orochi tried his best to be respectful and held his heads up. "Well… Our pa says we should try to be like you and the monks. I've always loved big dragons like you but I'm not good enough."

"Now why would you suspect that?"

"Pa says I'm not a celestial. He said I'm just going to live here."

"Well, You're certainly the most exotic and interesting dragon I've ever laid my eyes on. Lend me your hand." The elder held out his large hand, big enough to support Orochi's body. He put his hand in the elder's, the elder closing his fingers around the young dragon's hand and gripping it tightly, closing his eyes. Orochi winced, looking at some sparks of light came from within his hand, the elder releasing and the light persisting. As he turned his hand to look at his palm, it had a bright turquoise symbol of infinity, pulsing as it got dimmer and dimmer before disappearing. The elder himself looked astonished. "Err, well, that's that. Now we know."

"Know what?" Orochi inquired.

"You are most definitely a pure celestial." Orochi sprung up and jumped, squealing in happiness and bouncing from side to side upon landing. "Yes! Yes! I'm not a nobody!" The competitiveness in Mayall grew, as he jumped in front of Orochi and towards the elder, the elder noticing and smirking, lowering his eyebrows. "What about me?" Mayall held out his hand, and the elder did the same process, holding his hand with the same lightshow, moving his hand away to see the infinity, but not glowing with as much fervor. "You seem to be a celestial, but not as complete as your counterpart here." The elder sat back and rested on his hands, sitting like a cat. Mayall was relieved, but did not understand what the elder meant by "completeness."

The elder looked at the two and closed his eyes once more, nodding slowly as he evaluated their words, suddenly talking out, speaking with a quick, and firm biting manner. "No dragon should ever want to be a monk. It's work for hypocritical tyrants who will damn you to hell should you ever, through your own studies, find something that could usurp their power or title."

"All of you dragons are supposed to be good. I guess not."

"Good, from a certainnnnn point of view, after all." Orochi's eyes wandered past the elder and into the cave, where some small possessions were scattered across the dirt floor. However, the glint of gold caught his eyes, as he saw two tall swords. Each had a thin, curved blade that came to an impeccable tip, and was completely engraved all the way down to the hilt, where a wide finger guard curved around the grip. Along the front of the finger guards, there was a serpentine dragon with it's head reared back, it's eyes open and it's jaws wide open as if it were screaming. The elder caught Orochi's gaze and began to talk to him, shattering his focus on the swords and bringing it back to the elder. "Well, I've forgotten my manners. My name is grand elder Ariax Malum Caroso. What's yours?"

"Geran."

Mayall joined in after Orochi. "Mayall, sir."

"Geran what? Mayall what?"

Mayall dragged his claw in the dirt. "That's just it. We don't have any other names."

"Odd. Mayall, your body looks like a Caroso, I must say. I can understand why you would be here." Ariax lowered his heads and got close to Orochi. "Now you… Dear me, you're an interesting specimen, You look like you have a mixture of quite a few traits. It's quite impossible to tell where you're from."

"Well silly, I'm from here!"

"...From here?" Ariax did not seem surprised.

"I was born here."

"Peculiar, peculiar indeed. I'm not even certain how you are biologically possible. Whatever it is must be a miracle." Ariax continued to study Orochi, while his words went into the young dragon's ears and out the other, the fire dimming before him. Ariax raised his hand, flicking his claws together and igniting a deep red flame, curling his palm around it and tossing his hand towards the first, catapulting the flame into the fire and causing it to burn brighter.

"Oooooh…"

"It's a simple fire summon. You'll learn it soon if your parents are any worth."

"I only have one dad."

Ariax leaned back, puffing out his chest and exaggerating his regal posture, arching his shoulders back and keeping his chin up, looking at the two. "I don't understand why I didn't already anticipate that. What a planet we're on, I must say. Beautiful except for the creatures that live on it."

The trio sat together, casually talking, while Ariax did his best to entertain the two dragons. He couldn't believe such young celestials were out we roaming. He felt bored, resorted to being a performer with the aether he perfected and was ejected from. The insult to injury he experienced was being defeated on Celestia, the homeworld, and being chased down to the point he was stuck on such a low planet, in a cave. He was used to elegant linens and accomodations ones would dream of, but all he had was nature and the ground under him. How he yearned to take it onto the dragons around the planet and display who he was, and dare the elders to follow him. However, the feelings of anger subsided with curiosity with the two celestials, particularly Orochi.


	7. Orochi: Chapter 6

Orochi: Chapter 6

The viceroy stood on all fours atop the outer walls of the fortress, gazing down over a small nearby gate, in which several guards dug and sniffed the ground. There were some glints of color in the ground, and spears laid out across the ground, with one guard sitting with his arms held out to his side against a tree, lifeless. Iserine rubbed his jaw, the back of his neck starting to tingle as he felt a presence. He slowly turned his head to look behind him, turning his sculpted chest slightly as well, to see one of his guards approaching. "What is it?" The guard quickly grabbed his spear, standing up on his rear legs and standing at attention. "Two visitors are here to see you, Viceroy."

"Names, names!"

"Oradom Caroso and Montre Coleum."

"...The inspector?"

"I would suspect it so."

"Snatch him first, make Oradom wait. Order him to my offices." The guard promptly nodded and put his fist to his chest, swiveling and running along the wall to a set of stairs. Iserine spread his worn wings out, twitching with the gentle gusts of wings, each wing like a hand with fragile, long fingers between each portion of wing. He took a small step off the edge of the wall, falling quickly before the air under his wings pulled him up, gliding towards the central structure of the fortress. He gently banked, approaching an empty balcony that was his reserved stay, arching his back as he slowed down and flapped his wings quicker, softly touching down on his rear legs. "I hope he's worth the claims I overheard." He opened the hatch into his room, crawling inside and locking it behind himself and making his way through the front door and into the hallways. Deep inside the guts of the castle, Iserine stomped his way through the tall hallways, reaching what seemed to be a small cliff into the main atrium of the castle. He jumped and landed on all fours, briskly walking to his office, opening the door and tossing himself into his chair, sitting in it and hunching over. His claws glided across the surface of his desk, tapping it in anticipation.

The door opened further as Iserine spotted a statue grey colored dragon peering through. It was easily identifiable as a male, having a thick and long neck with a tapered, beaklike snout. His scales were slightly unkept, showing hardiness instead of elegance without a sign of polishing or care. His body was long and serpentine, and his arms were merged with his wings as he was a wyvern breed. The dragon's horns were long and twisted, accompanied by needle-like spikes running down his spine. His eyes were oddly inverted, as his eyes were black but the reptilian slits for pupils were a hazy white. He kept serious and didn't smile or form, only bowing. "Montre Coleum, Chief Investigator of the Pax Celestia, at your service."

Iserine raised his hand and claws, motioning them in front of his desk. "Please, take a seat. We have much to discuss." Montre looked over to a small stool in front of the desk, sitting down on it, using his winged arms to hold onto the stool. "Yes, of course. What is the discussion subject?" Iserine put his hands together, resting them and his elbows on his desk, leaning forwards. "I"ve been having issues with guards appearing and disappearing. It's happened about five times these few cycles. The trace evidence is very odd, affecting only guards, stewards, and so on. I have a reason to believe we have someone, perhaps quite talented, working to de-stabilize our paradise."

Iserine's eyes locked with Montre's.

" Not only that, but we've had robberies of food, with the same tell tale signs. I'd like you to bring me this individual or group alive. You see Montre, this entire planet is a safe-haven for dragons from their respective regal houses, from rejection where they can live peacefully. Unfortunately, some dragons will be rejected for the right reason, and it is evident that it's only a matter of time before these things start to occur."

Montre balled his hand up and put it to his jaw, squinting his eyes and nodding as the celestial spoke. "Huh. Normally a food and subsistence robbery would be due to desperation, starvation. However the residents here seem well fed. If this is part of some operation against you, then the criminal is most likely starting small for now. Seeing that he's kidnapping." Montre looked back up to meet Iserine's. "The cosmos are at peace, but you've placed too much faith in dragons, Viceroy. This is why penitentiaries are needed, lest the riff-raff is let loose, and travels out to bother you."

"Allow me to remind you that we haven't had any of these problem. Particularly since that elder of our house went completely insane."

Montre tapped his fingers on the stool while pondering again. "True. Perhaps the possible suspect is him. What have you collected from the scene, and where do you store them?"

Iserine recoiled to the thought of that same elder to be responsible for anything that was going on. "I store evidence in this very castle, but him? Grand Elder Caroso? I couldn't say with any confidence he could have any influence in this. It's not hard to miss an Elder, Montre. As you may know, those celestials are rumored to be the best kept and groomed, and especially of being my size or larger—" Iserine stopped as he thought to himself. "But, now that you say, there are interesting burn marks and crystal formations. I've never seen anything like it. Could he be sending someone to do his bidding, and what reason would someone like him even have? This place has nothing to offer him."

Montre shook his head to Iserine. "Nothing needs to be offered to the perpetrator. He could simply be committing acts of discourse for his own pleasure."

"I had thought blatant wickedness like that only existed in the ancient past."

Montre swayed back and forth in his chair. "Nonsense! As you said, this activity is possibly from outside influences due to the simple lack of responsibility from the usual criminals. However, since these attacks are only happening here, I believe this could be an act of grievance or revenge. Perhaps some form of corrupt justice with a twisted logic to it, and worse case, you might have a sociopath. It fits the logic of Grand Elder Caroso."

"I can't support the idea just yet. They're so popular and evident, it's hard to miss. Especially with the power they have, petty serial murders shouldn't be the only thing going on."

"Maybe it isn't, Viceroy."

"We have yet to recover a body. This is sincerely troubling. I've offered a fee to your Pax Celestia in keeping your services here. It's in both of our interests."

Montre frowned and huffed through his nose, small wisps of grey smoke rising from each nostril. "I think I can accept these terms then."

"Good! Do you wish to see the evidence now?"

Montre eagerly nodded and leaned forwards. "Indeed I do."

Iserine quickly stood up, and walked out of his office with haste. Montre hopped off of his chair and waddled behind, hopping back and forth with his long arms to keep pace with Iserine's long strides. He eventually caught up and the two approached a small doorway, covered by a stone slab. Iserine put his hand onto it and put his lips up to a small hole in the door, breathing a puff of fire. The door shook while loud clicking and scraping noises came from within it, the door sliding out to the side. Iserine slid in, having to crawl to get in, while Montre easily walked in. "I must say, this castle is quite unoptimised for dragons like me."

"But of course, you're not in Caroso anymore."

Before them, shattered spears with burn streaks stained into their handles, exotic crystal shards of different colors and shapes, as well as some pieces of armor that had shown signs of various damage: burns, physical deformation, and an odd frost that coated some points of impact. Monte slowly took steps in between each carefully laid out piece of crystal or weaponry, reaching down to pick one up and examine it closely. He let out a quiet gasp, feeling a tingling and surging sensation in his entire arm, the crystal beginning to emit light. "What in the name of the Ouroboros is this? It's charged with some energy of sorts."

"I was hoping you'd tell me. Have you ever seen this before?"

"No. I was counting on the same. Just looking into your office tells me you're quite the investor in exotic crystals and gems."

"Sure I am, but they're just that. Maybe they emit some light and have some odd properties. I assure you investigator, that is not one of those properties." Montre closed his fingers around the odd crystal, reaching down and picking up the other shards, resting them in his hands. "I will have to research. This is some new arcane art. I'd say we have a new challenge, Viceroy; Finding out what the meaning is of these crystals, and how the damage on the armor occured. Different types of damage suggest perhaps different dragons with different elemental specialties are working together."

"I have no responsibility in trying to understand what any of that is pointing towards. You're under my pay investigator; Do your job, and let's reach a conclusion that we both like," Iserine barked. Montre huffed in annoyance with Iserine. "Gladly."

Oradom sat in the courtyard of the fortress, sitting at the front of a large group of dragons watching some monks spar with other dragons, using their powers and physical prowess. One monk was a very long, serpentine dragon with limbs compared to his body. His green scales were very smooth and flush along his body, and had a very long mane of golden hair flowing from the back of his head, hiding his horns. His opponent seemed to be a common dragon, wearing only what seemed to be a few rags around his chest, a western bodied dragon with pointy horns and a thin body. The monk was a celestial, and the commoner was a simple lesser. The two circled each other, the commoner repeatedly poking and jabbing at the serpent, the serpent twisting around his punches. The commoner wheeled forwards at the serpent, hitting a strike into his stomach, knocking some of the breath out of the serpent. He quickly twirled his body around the commoner, using his lengthy tail to trip and knock the commoner onto his back. The monk lifted himself off the ground and levitated above, swirling and sweeping down for a falling strike, but was quickly interrupted by a hard smack into a cold surface. The commoner had pursed his hands and lips to blow a formation of ice before himself, cracking upon the impact. He gave a hearty laugh and swiftly kicked the ice, shattering it and sliding the monk off of it. The monk got onto his hands and feet while the commoner poised to blow ice again onto him, the two engaging into true combat. The commoner moved quickly and stopped just as instant, the monk exhibiting the same behavior. They swung, blew ice, casted ice, and smashed debris to each other, flashing from one place to another, exerting themselves as much as they could to be able to get the perfect upper hand on each other. Finally, a stalemate was found as they clashed once more, the commoner being knocked down again and the monk stopping before him, calming down and letting out a long sigh. He closed his eyes and gave a bow, and the group of spectators including Oradom clapped. Oradom was very contented with the display, thinking of how Mayall could grow to be so talented, it was just up to him to show him the right way. His reminiscing of the future was broken by another thought, looking up at the sun and realizing the time of day. What was taking Iserine so long?


	8. Orochi: Chapter 7

Orochi: Chapter 7

Flashes of orange rushed along the shimmer of the leaves, each shadow between each tree lessening and disappearing. Orange was replaced by blue, and soon by green, taking their turns among the canopy of the forests. A puff of deep yellow fire erupted and dissipated into the air, steam rising from Elder Ariax's lips. He was sat in the same place where he had settled, the two children persisting as they watched him. Mayall tried to imitate, puffing his lips and giving a forceful breath of air, resulting in an uneventful and unsuccessful attempt. Orochi watched idly, his eyes wandering not only to the rainbow of different crystals erected nearby, but constantly the two large sabers that leaned innocently against the wall of the Elder's outcropping.

"Well, don't feel ill of yourself, different dragons are best suited to different things. It should come natural once you're taught it. It's what we," Ariax paused, and muttered with some disappointment, "...Do all the time at the monastery. Teach the most gifted to involve themselves in the deepest gift of the dragon." Ariax put his hands down on the dirt, sitting up, looking at the disgruntled dark dragon. "Pa says I'm gifted! I should be able to, it just won't work."

"Well… Of course you are. Just give it a few more tries, and if not, I'll help you."

While Ariax's attention was on Mayall, Orochi stood up and slowly wandered out of his frame of view. All of his eyes were locked on the swords, gazing upon them with fascination. He had played with sticks, but the blades of gold and wonderful engravings reeled him closer. Images of colorful paintings, books, and stories of dragons, armored with armor and respect, flashed before his eyes. But none of their weapons could compare to the beauty of what was in Ariax's cave. Orochi got up close to them, looking up at them. He was only as tall as their handles, looking past the finger guard and to the blade, layered with shimmering glints of light. He slowly reached out, running his small fingers along the textured and felt wrapped handles, putting his two hands around it. Orochi felt amazing, and delighted to be so close to such works of art, slowly backing away to get to his brother. He slowly turned around, his heads waning from view of the sabers. One of the sabers slightly shifted, as a faint light slowly traveled along it's edge to it's tip, seemingly turning by itself, the blade facing Orochi. It gradually started to lean, attracted to Orochi while he had his back turned to it, walking towards his brother and the Elder, just as the Elder turned his head to see Orochi.

"There you are little one, I was wondering—"

Ariax, no matter how much spite he had in his soul, shrunk as he took a moment to process the youngling walking towards him, and the blade starting to fall towards him. Ariax's body tensed up, his claws digging deep into the ground, while his legs pushed up from behind him, springing him into the air. Deep purple wisps of light trailed from his fingertips and edges of his wings, propelling him even faster. Yamato turned his heads, as darkness fell upon him. Upon a few seconds of perception, his eyes flicked back to see the blade, and Ariax standing over him and holding the blade almost surgically by the spine of the blade. Ariax himself had steam rising up from his body, breathing hard.

"You idiot! Didn't your father ever tell you not to touch weapons? You nearly killed yourself!"

Orochi immediately shrunk, curling his necks and quickly hopping out of the way, a rush of embarrassment burning in his belly. He gave several large hops to a nearby bush, covering his heads and hiding. Ariax rolled his eyes and gave a quiet sigh, placing the saber upright with the other. Mayall rubbed his eyes in confusion on what had transpired, going from feeling fed up with trying to breath fire, to a flicker of action, loosing his balance and falling on his rump. "Uh…"

"Pay it no attention. I ought to have tea with your father and ensure I tell him how to guide his children," Ariax barked.

"That actually sounds like a great idea, Papa would love to talk to someone like you. He talks of you so highly," Mayall quickly interjected. Ariax curled several clawed fingers around his chin, smirking and looking to the side. "Perhaps that's actually a feasible proposition; Why he would admire me in particular, I wouldn't have the slightest idea."

"He would love to meet an elder!"

Ariax's smile quickly disappeared, his eyebrows drooping in unamusement. "Oh. 'Tis a shame. You, in the bushes, come hither!"

Orochi slowly poked out his heads from the bushes, crawling out steadily. Ariax huffed with impatience, holding his hand out limp wristed in Orochi's direction. Orochi squealed in confusion as he lost control and sensation in his legs, as the ground left from under him and he slowly floated through the air on the cushion of some unseen force, landing in Ariax's hand. "There you are. Since you've been meddling with my sabers, you've missed the lesson. Do you or do you not want to learn how to be a dragon?"

"Yes! Please!"

"Calm yourself, just listen. Your companion is rather… Obtuse regarding this, or perhaps just too young. You might prove a better chance. Pay close attention. I want you to take a deep breath, and before you breathe out, retract your tongue— Err, tongues… and tuck your stomach in slightly. Keep your stomach tight as you blow out."

Orochi muttered quietly to himself, running through the process several times in his mind. He took a deep breath, tucking his stomach in and closing his eyes, keeping his stomach tense as he blew out as hard as he could. He felt an odd sensation deep within his core, and a quiet hiss emitted with his sputtered blow. "Aha, I was certain someone had the ability."

"B-But, there was no fire," Orochi muttered disappointingly.

"Do it again."

Orochi took in some air in the same manner, tensing his abdomen up and breathing out as hard as he could. Ariax leaned in slowly, his polished enamel claws resting against each other, quickly snapping with his claws. A small spark flew before his mouths, giving way to a loud roar of fire, a wide plume of bright orange flames soaring out a few of his mouths, the flames birthed a short distance from his lips. The bright flash stunned Orochi for a quick second, gasping and stopping his blowing, only to see the remnants of his newfound breath curl around itself and rush up into the air, disappearing.

"Wow! I did it! I actually did it!"

Despite the bother teaching was, having been stuck to it for so long, Ariax smiled with genuine content. "Ah, you see? Fire is simple! Most dragons can do it. Say, I think I know the problem with you, little Mayall. Perhaps fire is just not your element."

Mayall stepped forwards, jealous of his brother. "Well, then what is?"

"I could put you through some aether trials, but that's just a bunch of rubbish for a little hatchling I've just run into. Figure it out yourself, it'll be much more gratifying when you do." He looked up into the sky, seeing the gentle blue changing colors as sunset grew closer. "You two might want to go to your father. It's been a… Pleasure to speak with you, I have business to take care of anyways." Ariax sat down, keeping a regal posture and sitting up straight with his chest held out, lowering his chin and closing his eyes. The two hatchlings just kept watching him. "Did I stutter? Leave. Shoo. Scram. It's getting late."

Mayall and Orochi looked in between each other, with Mayall starting to slowly step back and walk away, Orochi quickly following suit. Some time after meeting the elder and backtracking their way to the hut, Oradom was standing outside, his arms crossed and looking unamused. "You two! You're always here when I get home! What's happening with you?" Mayall perked up to talk, but was cut off by Oradom the moment he got a breath. "Get inside. You had me worried sick. Especially with that madman out by the fortress."

The two hatchlings scurried inside and Oradom crouched to follow behind. Oradom already had his paste food prepared for the hatchlings while a small basket of berries was set aside for himself. The hatchlings held onto the bowls of paste, leaning down and licking it up.

"The Viceroy met with me today. There's a crazy… Something out there."

Orochi lifted a few heads from his meal, while the others ate. "We didn't go to the fortress. We went the other way, to the forest."

"The forest? There's nothing there."

"No papa, there's a lot of big, big crystals where an elder lives!"

"An elder? As in Elder Dragon?"

"Yeah, like the story you told me. He taught me how to breath fire!"

"Amazing! An elder here? It fancies me to find out why he would be on this refugee planet. Maybe he's the one the Viceroy called to help."

"He said he would like to meet you one day."

"It would be my pleasure to give him that opportunity." Oradom grinned.

The streets of the fortress were in a dead silence, with the moon absent from the night sky and the streetlamps providing the only comfort of sight. Two guards stood by the gates, holding torches that lit up bright blue with imported Saffarian crystals, creating a small radius of light around the gate. The wind rushed through the leaves of the trees, howling in the far distance. The two guards looked at each other for a brief moment, almost as to establish comfort in their presence, their gaze interrupted by a few snappings of twigs. They immediately shot up both of their spears, growling loudly, squinting their eyes to see in the darkness beyond. "Hault! Who goes there?" Their sudden barks gave way to a large silhouette approaching from the forest, covered in a set of robes or clothes that flapped in the wind, indistinguishable by the darkness of the night. "Aye! Who are you? Don't be shy, if you fu-"

The guard's shout was cut short by a splash of water to his and his parent's face, seemingly out of thin air. Surprise turned to bewilderment as their faces felt incredibly cold, as the water flashed to ice, reflecting a light purple energy that came from the silhouette hands. The colors of the robe were now perfectly, a drab brown with occasional runes in gold. The color of the stranger's hands also appeared, as a deep blue. They muffled as they clawed at their faces, their mouths and snout shut. The figure raised his hands up, and the ground before them slightly parted, two spikes of rock shooting out of the dirt and slamming the guards against the wall, knocking them out as they suffocated. The stranger parted wide, elegant wings that were painstakingly cared for, and he shot up into the air, up to the gate, using it as a springboard to climb up upon the outer walls of the fortress. He looked up only to meet the gaze of another guard, who only made a mutter prior to the stranger's hands impacting his chest, a lightning bolt making contact between both hands and their victim, sending him flying over one side of the wall. The lightning flash lit up the city, and caused the other dragons who happened to still be up to look up at what seemed to be a clear night sky. He lunged into actions, sprinting on all fours, silently scuttering along the brick floor under him, making a quick turn and hopping from building to building, home to home, all of varying sizes in the shadow of the night. He panted quietly as he swiftly moved, avoiding pottery or clutter that might sound himself off. He found a large bridge between two buildings to jump up to his destination, a tall tower of carved sandstone. He grunted as he pulled himself up to an empty balcony, and slowly approached a paper door that had light glowing through it. He slowly reached out with his blue hands, grabbing the handles and yanking them apart.

"Good evening! Or good morning? You're always so on time, sir. I'm surprised the guards didn't give you too much trouble." A small dragon sat in a quite normal sized living room, at least for Ariax. Inside was decorated with many shades of wood, and lit by flames behind paper lamps. The small dragon was a dark red in color, and seemed to be of an eastern variety, with a long body, silky black hair, and two small whiskers dropping from his face. Ariax pulled the hood of his robe from down his head, revealing his face and glowing eyes. "No, not too much at all. They'll discover the bodies soon."

The dragon smiled, turning his chair to face Ariax, leaning back into it and kicking his legs up into the air as he hunched up. "So sir, what may I do for you? Tell you where the foodstuffs are, perhaps looking for a good book to read?"

Ariax crawled inside the living room, careful not to knock any small furniture over. "I've observed the perimeter. The gates, and even inside. Saffarian crystals instead of lamps."

The serpent put his claws together. "So you feel it too? A shipment came from Saffar, quite a large one, I saw it leaving Stella City a while ago."

"The crystal. Where is it?"

"You madman, how would I know? The apotheosis crystal shard is one of the most heavily guarded secrets they have-"

"You've been a great helper and assistant back in the monestary. Do not force thine luck and make me find a new one."

"...It's being stored deep within the fortress. The castle. There's a small hall inside, decorated with gilded pillars that leads to the energy locked door."

Ariax grinned. "Now that's the answer I was expecting."

"You can't possibly be going to get it now." Ariax had already begun turning to slip outside of the door. He turned his head to face the serpent, shrugging as he leaned off the edge. "Of course!"

And like that, the disgruntled elder disappeared from sight as he slipped past the balcony.

Within the fortress, the Viceroy was wrapping up the last of his duties within his work room, and was preparing to retire for the night. He ran his claws along finey organized parchment, muttering to himself as he verbally recanted the placement of his documents. He sighed to himself and rubbed his eyes, getting onto all fours and picking up a small gold certificate, stepping out of the office and lifting the certificate up to his face. It was a map of the castle, but with a designated path for him to follow. The crysto-phile he was, he was determined to bid his biggest and most prideful purchase goodnight. As Iserine walked, his claws clicked along the hard floors of the fortress, echoing across the deathly quiet halls, the crystal glow brought down to a mere shine on the walls. His stocky draconic body casted long, lengthy shadows as he passed each dim crystal, passing a nightwatch guard on each corner he took. The silence unnerved him, he was typically never awake this late, and never saw the castle this dark himself.

He shook his head, gasping sharply as his rear legs hit something and he fell flat on his chest and belly with his limbs sprawled out. He growled and grit his teeth, rolling onto his back to see what tripped him. It was a guard, laid on his side, all of his horns snapped on the ground and in a deep unconsciousness. "What in the name of…" Iserine crawled up to the fallen guard, noticing shards of ice on his face and burn marks on the back of his head. A quiet silence ensued, then something snapped, and he roared out loud, his roar reverberating through the hallways, waking it's shallow sleepers. "Guards! Ring the bell! We have an intruder!" Iserine dropped the guard and the thought of his precious shipment went straight to his mind, and he sprang into a full sprint on his rear legs, quickly raising the certificate to find the final resting place of the shipment. Iserine entered a long, sprawling hallway, a door in the middle, and at the far end a cloaked figure darker than the shadows he himself cast.

The viceroy's scales and spines stiffened, and he took a deep breath, bellowing out towards the figure. "You! Declare yourself!" The two stood in silence as they gazed each other down, glowing yellow eyes permeating from the figure's head region. Finally, the figure broke into rapid motion, sprinting for the door, Iserine snarling like a feral animal and charging right for the door as well, his chest glowing a bright orange and smoke billowing from his nose. Before the figure could reach the handle for the door, Iserine's jaws snapped open, a powerful column of fire screeching out from his mouth and narrowly blasting the intruder's head off. The hallways caught fire, and the figure ducked as his headpiece was now torn off, revealing the blue scales, the trident horn, the well cared for scales, and the delicate robe underneath the cloak.

Iserine's eyes widened, as he knew exactly what was going on, why he and the elder were there for the same reason. Iserine swung the column of fire onto Ariax as the elder spread his legs and got into a low stance, crossing his arms and a blast of icy air rocketing out from his arms, shielding himself for a brief moment with a wall of ice. Iserine was running out of stamina as he concentrated the beam of fire onto the wall of ice, melting it away. Ariax smirked, raising his foot and slamming in into the ground, a deep yellow bolt of lightning arcing straight from the floor, through the ice shield and shattering it, and landing into Iserine's chest, detonating with a loud thundercrack and knocking Iserine across the floor for a short distance. Iserine panted as the air had been knocked out of him, and just as he was getting up, the castle bells started to ring. Ariax's smile was wiped off his face as now they were onto him, and more pertinent matters had appeared. He needed to have that shard. He had to win after being denied so many opportunities. Ariax quickly grabbed the door and yanked it open, to reveal a devoid room with a small box on a pedestal.

As he turned to run inside, Iserine closed the distance and swung his claws at Ariax, two of them grazing his ribs and he roared, bearing his teeth and swinging the rest of his body inside, intentionally cornering himself and luring his prey in. Iserine sprung inside, and bounded out for another strike with flames billowing out from between his lips. Ariax waited and waited, concentrating. He lashing out as he ducked under Iserine and allowed him to smack face first into the wall, gripping onto his chest and spinning both of their bodies, slamming Iserine on his head and back on the hard floor. Ariax summoned large spikes of ice laced with lightning, a deep purple glow appearing along his arms shooting them out to end Iserine. The beast was resilient, and yanked his body onto a side to jut his body between the spikes, bucking Ariax and slamming him against the wall, roaring in frustration and pain. Ariax slid down to the floor as Iserine got onto his feet, raising walls of fire around Ariax as he charged at him for a headbutt, lowering his horns to Ariax. Ariax let out a few quiet huffs and smiled, suddenly darting at Iserine, slamming his claws on the floor as they narrowly slid past each other, Ariax holding out his hands as a golden flash appeared along his hands, and dragged past Iserine's chest. Iserine gasped loud and gurgled in pain, as his upper torso slid off of his abdomen, and his lower waist and legs slid cleanly off of his abdomen, his pieces smacking against the wall and blood pouring on the ground.

Ariax stood over him, leaned forwards as the chaos sabers were in hand, still placed where they had slid through Iserine. "You fool! You know who I am… You should of known it would end like this! Of course, these sabers just make my endeavors a bit… Easier. What a wonderful relic for dragon slaying. Or problem solving, it just depends how you see it." Ariax lowered the sabers to his side, the blood covered blade edges glowing a gentle red. He calmly walked over, switching both sabers into the grip of one hand as he grabbed the small box, opening it to see a small blue shard, no bigger than his thumb. He turned around to see the room he was in was starting to be surrounded.


End file.
